Everything Changes
by Stardust585
Summary: An easy case turned deadly makes Mac realize what Stella means to him. Yet realizing something and acting on it are two different things, especially when you’re Mac Taylor. But when you’re Stella Bonasera, you won’t let that stop you. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1 Down the Rabbit Hole

**Everything Changes**

**Summary: **It's winter in NY. An easy case turned deadly makes Mac realize what Stella means to him. Yet realizing something and acting on it are two different things, especially when you're Mac Taylor. But when you're Stella Bonasera, you won't let that stop you. SMacked romantic two-shot.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. This is only a fan fiction story. CSI:NY and all the characters are the property of Anthony Zuiker and CBS. I'm just a fangirl who can't resist playing with their wonderful creations:-)

**A/N:** Set sometime after episode 6.11.

Read and enjoy!

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**CHAPTER 1**** – Down the Rabbit Hole**

"NYPD! Freeze!" Mac Taylor shouted as the young white male and the prime suspect in his case, Carl Bradford, started to run upon seeing the armed detective clad in a bulletproof vest. Bradford was the last piece in what had turned out to be a difficult and exhausting case, which Mac wanted nothing more than to close. In order to do so, he needed to catch him, though.

Little did Mac know that before that happened, he would have to endure more than he would have ever bargained for.

He started after Bradford with Flack and a couple of uniforms on his heels. The alley was covered in slippery sleet, the result of the last couple of days intense snowing, and as Mac ran it splashed his face and body, unpleasantly reminding him it was early January.

"We are in pursuit! The suspect is headed your way right now!" he heard Don report into his walkie-talkie.

Bradford had turned to one of the back alleys, exactly like they had been expecting. Stella, Danny and several more uniforms were already waiting for him there. As Mac rounded the corner, he expected to see the suspect already being tackled and cuffed. His expectations turned out to be nothing but wishful thinking, though. The scene that met him made his heart stop.

Bradford was indeed surrounded by police officers, all with guns raised at him. The only glitch was that he wasn't standing alone. Stella was standing with him. He had her in a strong hold in front of him as a shield, his gun pressed to her temple. As he heard Mac and Flack approach, he turned in their direction.

"Don't move any closer or I'll shoot her!" he shouted.

Mac stopped, his gun aimed at the man at all times. Flack stood beside him, also holding Bradford at gun-point.

"Easy," Mac said slowly. "You don't want to add killing an officer to your charges," he warned calmly even though his heart wanted to jump out of his chest out of fear for Stella's life.

"Maybe I do!" he dug his gun even harder into the delicate flesh of Stella's face and she winced. The guy was becoming more unstable with every second and Mac was afraid he could really make true on his promise. They had to act quickly.

It was as if Stella was reading his thoughts. Her eyes met his in a moment of silent understanding and she gave him an almost imperceptible nod.

The next couple of seconds happened so fast, they were almost a blur. Stella dug her heel into Bradford's foot with all her strength and elbowed him in the gut. Cursing, he loosened his hold just enough for her to be able to bend and try to move aside from him.

That was Mac's cue. He aimed his gun and took the man out in one shot. The uniforms and Flack were all over him in a flash and Mac ran up to Stella.

"You ok?" he put a hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said with an angry look on her face as she glared in the direction of the man who had held her hostage. "That bastard…"

"You two make quite the team," Flack addressed them wearing one of his snarky half-smiles as he went up to them. "You ok, Stell?"

"Yeah. I only wish it was me who shot him."

"Maybe you'll get a chance. Mac got him in the arm. He's breathing and kicking," with that Flack was off, talking away into his talkie again.

"I can't wait," she stated looking back at Mac.

He didn't reciprocate her smile, his expression still holding tension and worry. He frowned as he looked at the side of her face. There was a purplish bruise already forming on her temple.

"You should get that looked at, Stella," he said with concern and his hand went to her face to remove a strand of hair that blocked the view of the whole damage done, careful not to touch the hurt flesh. He took it in with a deep frown.

Stella watched his moves and took his hand from her face into her hand. Although it was delicate as a whiff of wind, his touch left her skin tingling.

"Mac?"

"I…," he sighed and looked her in the eye. "For a moment there I thought he was really going to kill you."

"So did I," she gave him a tight-lipped expression. Seeing his agitated expression made her realize how shaken he was, even though he tried not to show it. "But I'm like a cat. Always land on my feet," she flashed him a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"Stella, this is no joking matter," he said sternly. "You getting hurt in any way is not my idea of funny."

He ran a hand through his hair.

"I should have taken him down before he even started running. I had him at gun point," he said in torment.

"Mac, don't you dare blame this on yourself! There was no way you could have done anything differently. We had a trap set and it was your role to lure him into it, not shoot him. We need him alive, remember?"

"When he puts the life of someone I care about in danger, I don't care how we need him."

She was taken with his declaration but couldn't allow him to beat himself up for something that was entirely not his fault. She sighed – it was so Mac Taylor.

"Mac, don't blow this out of proportion, ok?" she put a hand to his cheek and made him look her in the eye. "Everything is fine. I'm _fine_."

Seeing his unconvinced expression, she gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Come on, Maudlin Man. Let's get this guy behind bars."

**XxXxXxX**

The ride back to the lab was that of quiet introspection for Stella. She put up a good front but inside, she was boiling. She couldn't believe she let herself get ambushed like that. She tortured herself further by replaying the events of the last half an hour in her mind second by second, a tight-lipped expression on her face.

"How did this happen, Stella?" Mac finally broke the silence, concern and worry still clear in his voice. He had wanted to ask her earlier but didn't want to with all the people around.

"Frankly, I have no idea, Mac," she frowned in frustration. "We were expecting Bradford and he still managed to surprise us. I didn't expect him to run further when he saw all the guns pointed at him. But he did…and I guess I was just the closest thing he could grab onto… Dammit, I should have seen it coming!"

"People as desperate as him are unpredictable, Stella," he tried to comfort her. "Don't beat yourself up."

"If it hadn't been for you…"

"As I recall, you tackled him pretty well yourself even before I took the shot, Stella."

"Whoever said heels were impractical, huh?" she chuckled but then was serious again.

"Mac…thanks. That was one hell of a shot. If it had been anyone else taking it, it would have been me on the ground with a bullet hole in my arm, and that if I was lucky."

"Arm? I was aiming for the leg," he deadpanned and she swatted him playfully on the shoulder.

He looked sideways at her smiling face. She always managed to pry his mind off his gloomy thoughts and make him smile. All he could do was try and be as good a friend as she was to him and do the same for her when she was in a tight spot. Though he had always found it hard to deal with emotional issues and had never really been good at initiating heartfelt confessions, for Stella he would do his best, no matter how difficult it was. For her, he would do anything. Hell, if she told him seeing him jump off the Brooklyn Bridge made her feel better, he'd do it.

"Then maybe I should get you a pair of glasses," she mentioned casually.

"Glasses? Me?" he raised his eyebrows.

"I think you'd look cute."

"Cute?" his eyebrows were almost touching his hairline now.

"What's wrong with cute?" she asked innocently.

He threw her a sideways glance.

"Mac, girls like cute, you know," she teased and was rewarded when he turned a shade red.

He recovered quickly, though. "Do you?"

Stella gave him a surprised look. Was that flirting just now?

"I do," she said simply.

He looked at her with a shy smile playing on his lips.

"Is that your way of saying you fancy your boss?"

Stella took a moment to recover. She didn't see _that_ coming. He _was_ flirting!

"Is that your way of flirting with me, _boss_?" she finally countered calling his bluff.

"Maybe," he said unfazed. "How's it going?"

"It depends."

"On?"

"What your aim is."

"My aim is pretty good."

"All right, that's it. Who are you and what have you done to Mac Taylor?"

He only chuckled in response and focused back on the road, glad to have achieved his goal. Not that the conversation went exactly like he had planned. He didn't intend to make a lame-ass attempt at flirting with her and was relieved she took it lightly. She never had to know he meant every word.

He didn't know it but she meant everything she said, too. Her gaze lingered on his handsome face as he turned his gaze back towards the road ahead. She regretted Mac didn't let this softer, lighter side of him peek through more often. Seeing him genuinely smile for a change was really something. She found herself drawn to him with his every word and every smile. How long could she keep these feelings to herself? What was she waiting for? A tragedy to occur? Today was close enough.

She was done waiting.

**XxXxXxX**

Mac had insisted she take it easy the rest of the day and sent her off home earlier with his firm 'It's not up for discussion'. Frankly, she was too tired to argue so she just went home as ordered. She didn't show it but as the adrenaline wore off, the events of today started getting to her. She had to vent in silence and so decided to walk home. Cool winter air was just the right catalyst. When she got home, her punching bag would be another.

With almost two decades as a policewoman behind her, she was used to dangerous situations such as today's but somehow it was different this time. Maybe because Bradford was really unhinged and had Mac tarried one second, he would have really shot her in the head. Or maybe it was the look on Mac's face when he saw her in her captor's hold. The sheer horror and anguish his face had displayed would stay with her for a long time.

It was trite to say that a brush with death changes your perspective, but that didn't make it any less true. As the gun was inches from her head and Mac was standing several feet away looking at her with torment in his eyes, she remembered thinking that if she died, she would never get to tell him…what exactly? That she cared for him? That he was more than a friend to her? But how did he feel about it?

She knew the looks he gave her were reserved only for her and the sincerity and openness he offered her he did not offer to anyone else but did that mean that he would perhaps consider something more? With Mac, you just never knew what was inside. Flack had once called him the man with the perfect poker face and Stella had to admit truer words have never been said about Mac Taylor.

Today, however, had somehow made all the difference for her. It made her sure that she really wanted to know what was behind it before it was too late. She remembered their conversation in the car earlier today.

She _was_ done waiting.

With a ruminative look on her face, she looked at one of the window displays she was passing and an idea popped in her head. She went inside.

**XxXxXxX**

"That's the last of the files, Mac," Sheldon sat a manila folder on his desk. It was already past eight and he and Mac were the only team members still on the clock.

"Thanks, doc," Mac looked up from his work.

"So, how's Stella doing?"

"She's tough," Mac sighed. "If she had had just a few more seconds, she'd have put one in Bedford herself."

"That's not hard to imagine," Sheldon smiled as he prepared to take his leave. "Night, Mac," he added as he headed outside.

"Night," Mac replied and turned his chair around. He stared out the window at the sprawling panorama of New York at night with a frown.

He believed every word he had told Hawkes about Stella. She _was_ tough. In fact, she was the toughest person he knew. Which didn't mean she was indestructible. He had been painfully reminded of this today. His mind kept replaying the blood-curdling moment when he saw her at the mercy of a dangerous criminal and the horrifying first thought that had crossed his mind then: _He'll shoot her_. The flurry of emotions that had engulfed him at that moment was quickly overridden by adrenaline as the shooting unfolded, but now these feelings were coming back.

If Stella had died, how could he ever recover from that? She was his rock, the one constant in his life. She had never failed him and was always there when he needed her.

Ever since Claire died, he had been subconsciously waiting for someone like that to come into his life. It was only now that he realized she had been in his life all along. The question was what he was going to do about it. Would he dare do anything at all? He had never really gotten over the fear of his heart being ripped apart again as it had been after his wife died. But Stella would never do that to him, of that he was sure. What held him back, then? Fear, insecurity, or his plain refusal to look the truth in the eye?

He shook his head in frustration and decided going back to his papers was the wisest he could do right now.

**XxXxXxX**

Stella came to the lab next morning with a big smile on her face and a small box in her hand. All the negative emotions from yesterday were gone, literally punched out of her system. All that was left from yesterday's scare was the bruise on her temple. Here, she was once again thankful for her bushy hair – they masked the black and blue spot rather nicely and the rest she had covered with a concealer.

She swung by Mac's office but he was in court. Then she was called off to a crime scene so she didn't see him until the afternoon. Even then, she didn't so much see as hear him first. His angry voice could be heard as soon as she exited the elevator and started for her office. She stole a glance into his and saw he was on the phone. She suspected who it was. Not many people could make the usually calm and cool Mac Taylor this angry.

Chief Sinclair had been giving Mac a hard time about the Bradford case from the very beginning as it involved the mayor's nephew and had quickly become a loud case. Sinclair had gotten wind of it instantly and insisted on being kept in the loop on all new developments. He had already held two press conferences and kept haranguing Mac to participate in them. While Mac grudgingly agreed to chief's demands for constant new updates, he drew the line at any 'public stunts' on his part, as he called them.

Stella understood Mac's beef with Sinclair. She knew that he didn't give a damn about any PR considerations. He was interested in doing the job and everything else would sort itself out on its own. While they both knew it didn't exactly work like this, they still didn't have to like it.

Now that they had finally caught the culprit, the press was all over the case and Sinclair was having a field day with it. She could only imagine where that left Mac. Certainly not where he wanted to be, as could be heard loud and clear in his tone.

She sighed deciding it was best she came over and checked how he was doing when he got off the phone. A fuming Mac was never a good Mac. Plus, she figured he could really use a distraction right now. The Gravedigger case, the Compass killer and lately the Sam Manning case had all taken their toll on him and this newest case with Sinclair breathing down his neck did nothing to make this better. She wanted to take his mind off all this and she only hoped that what she had in mind would work. She pursed her lips in frustration and headed for her office with the intention of finishing some reports.

She didn't manage to do much when she heard the sound of a phone speaker being set down somewhat too violently. She smiled to herself. One of these days Mac would simply crash the thing into pieces. Not that she could blame him.

She waited another ten minutes to let him vent in silence a little before she pushed herself out of her chair and made it to his office, the little package in her hand.

"Hi," she smiled.

"Hi," he greeted her looking up from his paperwork and drawing a hand over his eyes. She could see he was still fuming.

"Bad time?" she asked.

"It was before you came in," he said simply. She smiled even though she wanted nothing more than to come up and kiss all the worry from his face.

"Sinclair giving you a hard time?" she asked conversationally as she stood on the opposite side of his desk.

"How did you…?" he began but then thought better of it and just shook his head.

"Mac, you were shouting so loud half the lab heard you. Hell, I think even Sid down in autopsy heard you!"

"Right," he sighed with a frown building on his face.

She played with a block of post-its she had taken from his desk, then looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"So, are you still the boss around here?"

"At least for the time being," he huffed.

"You shouted louder, huh?" she settled into the chair opposite him.

"Something like that," he said and Stella was finally rewarded with a smile on his face. "So, how are you feeling?" he motioned in the direction of her bruised temple.

"I'm fine, Mac," she dismissed his concern with a half-smile. "Me and my punching bag, in fact."

Mac had to smile imagining Stella taking it out on the bag. It was so her to use even such a harrowing and distressing situation to make herself even stronger, both physically and mentally, instead of wallow in self-pity or take it easy on herself. Her adamant nature and strength never failed to impress him.

"Anyways, this is for you."

She landed the little box on top of the file lying in front of him. He looked at her questioningly.

"It's past Christmas, Stella," he frowned as he saw the festive packaging the box was wrapped in.

"I know, Mac. Do you see me caroling or wearing an elf costume?" she let the question hang in the air for a while before she spoke again, a smile playing on her lips. "In that case we've established it's past holidays."

He didn't respond, only looked at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

"What?" she asked furrowing her eyebrows.

"Sorry. I'm still at 'elf costume'," he smirked. "I'd like to see that."

"You wish," she flashed him a grin and pointed at the box. "Open it already, Mac."

"Stella, seriously. You already got me a gift."

"It's not a gift, Mac," she spoke with a mysterious smile. "Call it a New Year incentive."

He arched his eyebrows at her. "Incentive?"

He looked at the box suspiciously and then back at her.

"Just open it, Mac. It's not a bomb, I promise," she teased.

He let out a small chuckle and ripped the paper off the box. He opened the lid and stared at the small item inside. Then he looked at her, puzzled.

"A key?"

She nodded her head with a grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat.

"What's it to, Stella?"

"Last time I checked, you were one of the best investigators around here. You can figure it out."

Mac smirked. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence."

"I aim to please," she flashed him a cheeky grin. "But to make it a bit easier let me give you a hint – it's always darkest under the lamppost."

"It's mysterious keys _and_ riddles now?"

"That makes you Alice, right?" she asked with smarmy glee.

He was about to respond when her phone buzzed to life.

"Sorry," she stood up to take it.

He watched her talk and wondered what this was all about. It wasn't unlike her to keep him guessing at her intentions but this time it appeared she had really put an effort in this. Seeing the happy sparks playing in her eyes, he couldn't help but oblige her and do this. Even if she was playing a prank on him. Even if she was, he found he didn't mind. If it only meant spending some quality time with her…And maybe somewhere along the way an opportunity would present itself to finally tell her how he felt…_Whoa, there, Mac. You're getting ahead of yourself,_ he scolded himself inwardly. For all he knew, this was just a ruse and nothing more.

"It was Lindsay," she informed him as she got off the phone. "We're headed to a new scene in the Bronx and she's waiting for me," she turned towards the door. "See you," she added on her way out.

Mac ran a hand through his hair as he looked after her. What was the phrase? Hate to see you go but love to watch you leave? He felt his face redden at the thoughts his treacherous brain generated but continued to watch her graceful silhouette move nonetheless. After all, he was only a guy. A guy finding himself increasingly attracted to his beautiful friend. As if on cue, the beautiful friend turned around once again.

"You better solve this today!" she mouthed pointing her finger at him before she disappeared in the elevator.

Mac looked back at the box. "Down the rabbit hole," he murmured to himself.

**XxXxXxX**

As Stella drove her department Avalanche to the new crime scene with Lindsay in the passenger seat, she couldn't help but smile all the time. Mac had taken the bait. Now she would have to wait.

She felt Lindsay's scrutinizing gaze on her and turned towards her.

"What's up?"

"Um…nothing…it's just that…you're _humming_, Stella."

"Sorry," she smiled in embarrassment. "Just can't help myself."

"A hot date?" Lindsay asked knowingly.

Stella shot her a sideways glance.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Yeah. Sorry." Lindsay said with mock sympathy. "So, who's the guy? He must be pretty great, I haven't seen you like this in a long while."

Lindsay's observation took Stella by surprise. It must have shown on her face because the younger woman chuckled. "Stella, I'm a woman, too. Plus, I've known you for some time now."

Stella sighed. "Yeah, he is pretty great. And the best part is, he doesn't even know it. Which makes him even greater. Does this even make sense, Linds?" she looked at her in frustration.

"Not much," Lindsay deadpanned. "But it shows just how much you're taken with him," she said it half-jokingly but seeing Stella's earnest expression, she stopped smiling. "Wow, this really is serious, isn't it?"

Stella gave her a wondering glance and was really grateful they had gotten to the crime scene at that moment. She was as bad at wording her personal emotions as Mac was and doubted she would survive any more of Lindsay's questions.

"Speaking of serious, Linds," she said as they got out of the car. "There's a dead body to process."

She took the entire crime scene in with a practiced eye as she put on her rubber gloves. This was her element and she was glad to be off the treacherous waters of girl talk. She was never any good at it and considered it only a way for women to whine and go mushy over men. She didn't do mushy.

She turned to Flack who was coming their way.

"All right, so what have you got?" she asked him matter-of-factly, her focus already completely on the crime scene ahead.

**XxXxXxX**

On the other side of Manhattan, Mac was saying the very same words to detective O'Reilly. He had been called to another new scene shortly after his conversation with Stella. Though he pitied the victim, he couldn't help but be grateful for this call. It allowed him to talk himself out of the press conference Sinclair was organizing just about now and had been pestering Mac about. The yelling contest earlier had concerned much the same thing. But back then, Mac didn't have an excuse even half as convincing as this.

He looked around with his camera in hands and started clicking pictures while two technicians moved around looking for bullets and traces. It was pretty much a standard case so he went on his own, what with Stella, Lindsay and Danny covering the double homicide in the Bronx and Sheldon on another shift this day. The down side was that when he was done processing, it was almost six in the evening and he still had to go back to the lab to drop off the evidence.

As he got to the lab, it was almost empty. He looked in the direction of Stella's office but her lights were off and he figured she must have gone home. She did have two other sets of experienced hands to help her with her crime scene so it was no wonder that by now she was already done for the day.

Besides, he didn't even try to fool himself – she was a beautiful and attractive woman and he knew she had to have a busy social calendar and an exciting life out of work. With a silent shake of his head he dropped off the evidence to be tackled by Sheldon and Adam tomorrow. Then he headed for his office figuring he could just as well do the paperwork now since there was not much else he had planned for the evening. It was turning out to be another typical lonely night at the office with no one and nothing to keep him company besides the files, folders and his thoughts.

He went into his office and took off his suit jacket, getting ready for work. Then as he turned, his eyes fell on the one item that was out of place in his otherwise neatly organized work space. The box from Stella. Now there was a small note attached to it.

_Have you caught your rabbit already__, Alice?_

_You__'ve got till eight before the Queen of Hearts comes after you._

He smirked. He glanced at the paperwork and then back at the note. It was just a key, how long could it take him to figure it out? Paperwork was nothing that urgent as they haven't even begun the official investigation yet, and Stella would have his head alright if he didn't do this soon.

He took the box off his desk and headed for the working stations.

**XxXxXxX**

Stella was beginning to doubt her plan. When she came back from Bronx with Lindsay and Danny, Mac was off at another crime scene and knowing him, it would take him some time, what with his attention to detail and protocol.

She was right because by the time she left, he still wasn't back. And he had probably forgotten about their conversation altogether. She would have stayed and made him remember but she had to run a few urgent errands, some of them necessary if her plot was going to kick off at all. She hoped the note she left him would do the trick, though. Otherwise, she _would_ have his head.

**XxXxXxX**

Mac ran the key through their database but there was no hit, the obvious conclusion being that it was custom-made. He also ran it for finger-prints and DNA hoping that maybe he could track the key's purpose by its owner but he only got Stella's and his own fingerprints. He wasn't surprised, though. He knew she wouldn't make it that easy for him. He looked at the key in frustration. Then he remembered Stella's 'riddle'. _Darkest under the lamppost._ The lock to this key had to be somewhere right under his nose.

He smiled to himself and went to Stella's office. He tried the lock in her desk and her file cabinet but it didn't work. Then he compared the key with his own desk key but it was no match as well. But as he was looking at the key more closely he saw there was a tiny logo etched on it.

He scanned it and compared it to their logo database. This time he got a hit. The logo belonged to a specialized firm, which did locks only on commission and one of the most current clients was…NYPD Crime Lab ME Office. Mac smiled to himself and took the elevator down to the morgue. It was even more deserted than the lab. Somehow Mac wasn't surprised.

He tried to fit the key to all the desks and lockers he could find and he only hoped no one, especially Sid, would come in on him or it would quickly make its way to the office gossip newsletter that the boss was lurking around the morgue going through people's stuff.

After trying the last lock, he stood up and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. Stella wouldn't have given him the key to one of the body holders, would she?

As he was looking around, his eyes focused on a lab coat hanging haphazardly on one of the chairs. Sid should work on his subordinates' tidiness, he thought. After work, all coats should be put into…and then it hit him. Smiling to himself that he should have thought about it in the first place, he headed for the locker-room.

With new-found certainty, he went straight for Sid's locker. He knew Stella's sense of irony and somehow he sensed that when it came to making him a prank, Sid would be in on it with her.

He found the right locker and slowly inserted the key into the lock. As he expected, it fit perfectly. He slowly turned the key, expecting at least a mummified brain to fall out when he opened it. He subconsciously held his breath and pulled the handle.

What was revealed to him was the most ordinary contents of a locker – several lab coats, some pictures, a spare pair of glasses, a teddy bear, a protein bar…a teddy bear? He looked at the toy more carefully and took it out. It had a small envelope pinned to its back with '_Mac_' written in Stella's hand. He opened it. There was another key and a small note inside. He read the note:

_59th and 5th Avenue, today 9 pm, locker 24_

_S._

_PS. Bring a scarf!_

He looked at the note again and then as if on cue, his phone came to life. He looked at the caller ID displayed on the screen.

"You've really made me work for it, you know."

"So, I gather you've found Sid's teddy bear?"

"Sid's?" he asked incredulously. "You didn't plant it here?"

He heard her laugh on the other side. "Sid might surprise you."

"I can see that," he said looking the bear up and down with an amazed frown.

"So, you up for the second part of your New Year hunt?"

"No more morgue excursions?"

"I promise," he could almost picture her smile on the other end as she responded.

"Then I'll be there. Will you?"

"Nice try but you won't get anything out of me. You'll see when you get there. Bye, Mac," and she hung up.

Mac pocketed his phone with a sigh and took the little key between his thumb and index finger, setting it before his eyes. Looking at it ruminatively, he said to himself: "What are you setting me up for, Stella?"

tbc.

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**A/N:** What do you think Stella has planned? That's to come in the next chapter:-) I hope you liked this one! Please leave a review and let me know! Thanks a lot:-)


	2. Chapter 2 Winter Wonderland

**Everything Changes**

**Summary: **It's winter in NY. An easy case turned deadly makes Mac realize what Stella means to him. Yet realizing something and acting on it are two different things, especially when you're Mac Taylor. But when you're Stella Bonasera, you won't let that stop you. COMPLETE

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. This is only a fan fiction story. CSI:NY and all the characters are the property of Anthony Zuiker and CBS. I'm just a fangirl who can't resist playing with their wonderful creations:-)

**A/N: **The second and last chapter. Thanks so much for all your alerts and favourites – they really made my day(s)!

To everyone who reviewed – please continue, and to those who didn't – do add a review if you've enjoyed this story:-) I really value all your opinions and thoughts!!

* * *

**CHAPTER 2**** Winter Wonderland**

After a quick change of clothes at his place and a taxi ride Mac found himself at the address indicated in Stella's note. He looked around with a small frown wondering what in heaven's name he was doing here.

He was on the edge of Central Park. Looking confusedly around, he wondered how Stella had managed to coax him into this in the first place. He smiled crookedly to his thoughts – it must have been the teddy bear. In truth, though, he knew that when it came to Stella, she could demand practically everything of him and he would come running.

He looked at the note from Stella and started on the nearest footpath leading him deeper into the park. He had an idea where the lockers she had specified were located.

As he walked, he couldn't help but marvel at the beautiful winter scenery unfolding before his eyes. He had always liked this place and on winter evenings it held a special kind of magical charm for him. The snow-covered trees, the eerie silence that muted out even the sounds of the city that never slept and the snow that delightfully scrunched under your feet as you carefully made your way through this winter wonderland. He relished the serene atmosphere and the clear chilly air that sent refreshing waves of cold down his nose and throat and made his cheeks a shade redder than usual.

As he wandered deeper into the park, the sounds of joy and laughter started to penetrate the air and grew louder with every step he took. One more turn and he came out onto a large clearing, the centre of which was taken by the biggest skating rink in New York, the Wollman Rink. He took a while to just stand there and watch the people gathered there, a silent spectator to all the joyfully loud activities on the ice. Couples holding hands, groups of teenagers, toddlers on wobbly legs held up by their parents, whole families – all enjoying a beautiful winter evening in the fresh air. There was something so heart-warming and comforting about this simple scenery that he couldn't help but smile to himself.

His job and daily life usually didn't allow him much space for cheer or comfort and sometimes he found himself wondering if there was any left in the world at all. Forced to witness the worst and ugliest in people on a daily basis, he found himself doubting the goodness of human nature. It was places like this that returned his faith in people and the world they had created.

And people like Stella who made him sure that things were never as bad as they looked. She was the bright spark that always helped build up some kind of hope inside of him after a particularly difficult and distressing day. Like today.

It was beginning to snow. He watched the small stellar plates settle with quiet dignity on his shoulders, hair and face. He was instantly grateful for the warm scarf Stella had him wear. The touch of cold flakes on the bare skin of his face shook him out of his stupor and he started towards his final, as he hoped, destination. He walked around the perimeter of the rink in the direction of a set of lockers intended for the skaters to leave their personal things in.

The lockers were there alright but there was no sign of Stella. He frowned and made it to the one with the number she had given him. His curiosity getting the better of him, he opened it and peered inside.

"What the…" he said to himself as he looked at what was stashed in the locker.

"Looking for something, handsome?" Mac heard a female voice addressing him flirtatiously from behind.

He turned around with a dismissive line on his lips he was going to offer to the pestering woman …only for the words to be choked down his throat, never to be spoken out loud, as he saw Stella coming up to him. She was wearing a tight-fitting jacket with a furry rim around her hood and dark jeans that hugged her shapely form in a way that made Mac gulp and think things he certainly shouldn't be thinking about his best friend. He felt warmth flow into his face and he could only hope she wouldn't notice the instant effect she never failed to have on him these days.

"Yeah," he managed to recover as she came to stand just in front of him. "Answers."

He looked back in the direction of the locker. "_Skates_, Stella?" he asked with skepticism.

"That is exactly why I didn't simply suggest this to you in the first place. Cause you'd've never agreed. Am I right?"

"Yes, you are. The first and last time I wore skates I was nine. That's about as much as I remember because I fell as soon as my feet touched the ice and got a concussion."

Stella had to smile at the image of a nine-year old Mac, shaky on his legs and flailing his hands in a desperate attempt to stay upright on the slippery ice. Looking at the somewhat nervous adult version standing in front of her, she felt her heart warm. That boy was still visible in his shy glances and his blushes. This was one of the main reasons she teased him so much, using every occasion to catch a glimpse of it. She found that boyish charm of his simply irresistible.

"Nine, eh? It's high time you tried it again, then."

"That's not what I…"

"Mac, if you don't wanna do this, it's fine," she sighed.

She really wanted them to do this together because she was sure it would be fun. For the both of them. Mac built up all those walls and restraints around himself but she knew he didn't really want them there. It was simply the only thing he knew how to do to help him deal with his emotions. She knew this because she did the same. He just needed somebody or something to give him a hand and push him out from behind them. She knew she could be this person. She wanted to.

Also, his thick head really needed some kind of shock therapy. Maybe another concussion would do the trick and make him see past his completely unfounded insecurities and notice the obvious like the fact how much she really cared for him.

"It won't be like it this time," she said warmly. "I won't let you fall, Mac."

The earnestness in her voice made him look up and wonder if there wasn't something more to the words she had spoken. _Yeah, you wish_, he scolded himself.

"Can't we just go and have dinner someplace?" he asked imploringly but she knew he had already made up his mind and would do this her way.

"Nice try but you're putting on those skates anyway, Taylor."

"If you wanted to kill me, you could have just thrown me down the stairs or something," he huffed as she led him towards the ticket stands, two pairs of skates from the locker in his hands.

"Now that's an idea," she said snidely taking her skates from his hands. "If this doesn't work, I promise your idea is next on my how-to-do-in-the-boss list."

He threw her a sideways glance as they came to stand in the line to the ticket stand. "You could have told me you had such a list, I'd have given you several more ideas," he deadpanned.

"So, you've been wondering about this also?"

"With you as my second in command, I have to watch my back."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she laughed.

She paid for the both of them despite his protests, which she silenced by putting a finger to his lips.

"This is my treat, Mac," she said. "It was _my_ idea to drag you here. Besides, I am well prepared to pay to watch you do this," she teased.

He gave her a quizzical look and they made their way to one of the benches nearby to put their skates on. He tried his on and didn't even wonder that they fit perfectly. He was past being amazed at her little plot so it really was no surprise she even knew his shoe size. She had prepared all this with the precision and accuracy of the brilliant CSI that she was. And all this effort to coax him out of the lab and make him have some social time around normal people living normal lives for a change. What did he do to deserve such thoughtful and caring attention from this amazing woman?

He chanced a glance in her direction. Her face was hidden under her mane of dark blond curls as she laced her skates and he was somewhat grateful because if she weren't, he would have pulled her into his embrace and kissed her breath out of her. Would she welcome it? Were they ready for such a step? Was _he_ ready?

Then she was up and on her legs, looking at him. When she saw he still didn't have his skates on, she pouted her lips.

"Mac, if you think procrastinating will get you anywhere here, then you've got another thing coming," she stated putting her hands on her hips.

"I'm not procrastinating. I'm just taking my time," he said with mock indignation.

"Then take your time faster, Mac, or you'll freeze to the bench," she teased and he huffed in reply, getting to work on the laces.

When his skates were finally laced up and ready, he stood up and made several tentative steps to get used to the feel of nothing but narrow blades under his feet. He couldn't say it was exactly the most comfortable thing he had ever worn but he thought it would be much worse.

Without further ado, Stella led him onto the ice. He made one careful step and clung to the side barrier to help him stay upright. Stella, on the other hand, pushed herself away confidently further onto the rink making it instantly clear to him she had certainly done this before. Amazed, he watched her lithe form easily glide on the ice in front of him. She skated a bit further away and then back to him in a series of elaborate and complex moves. She ended her sequence with a pirouette just in front of him and flashed him a smug grin as she made a little bow.

"Show-off," he mumbled and Stella's grin widened.

"Come on," she reached out to him offering him her hands to hold. "It's your turn."

He looked at her skeptically. "I hope you don't expect any triple jumps," he grunted as he tried to make a small step away from the barrier on his own. Keeping his focus, he managed another two before he swayed but Stella was there to steady him.

"This was the hardest part, Mac," she said serenely. "The rest is easy."

He gave her an incredulous look.

"Trust me, Mac," she smiled reassuringly and offered him her hands again.

He sighed with a look of torment on his face but allowed her to take his hands in hers.

She started to skate slowly leading him further onto the rink. His hands still in hers, she moved backwards dragging Mac after her so that she could face him and steady him if need be. The need occurred almost immediately as he swayed vicariously after only several feet.

"Don't look at you feet," she instructed. "Look at me."

He obeyed and was rewarded with a smile. Seeing the happy sparks her eyes held convinced him that his choice to stay was right, even though he didn't know if he would come out of the skating rink in one piece. And he was finding it actually was fun. Her advice did help and he started to feel a bit surer on his shaky legs. Sure enough to talk to her instead of focusing in taut silence on keeping up and down where they were supposed to be. There was something that was bothering him.

"How is it that you skate so well?"

"Well, you know I was very much into dancing in college. I trained professionally and our instructor used to bring us here for training in winter as soon as the ice was on. He said that if we could do our choreography on ice with skates on, _then_ we were ready. When I finally was, sometime in March, let me tell you, I was black and blue all over."

"And I thought my Marine instructors were tough," he deadpanned.

"Nah, military's nothing compared to dancing. You should have tried it instead," she poked him in the side playfully, which wasn't such a good idea because it threw him off his shaky balance and made him sway dangerously once again.

"You really _are_ trying to kill me ," he panted as he barely rescued himself from a fall.

"No. Injure you a little, maybe," she said innocently. "Your office has a much nicer view, you know."

"If you wanted my office, you could have just said."

"Nah. This is much more fun."

"I bet it is," he said ironically.

They skated slowly for about half an hour, Stella giving Mac further cues on how to move on the ice. She looped her arm into his bringing him close to her so that she could prop him. That did nothing to help though, as the smell of her perfume and her closeness did nothing to enhance his focus. All his mind could concentrate on was how much he wanted to pull her into his arms.

Then she suddenly moved away in an attempt to avoid a man who had tripped in front of them but Mac wasn't expecting it and when she was suddenly no longer there to steady him, he lost his balance and fell on his back. It was not that bad, he figured, and lying sprawled on the ice like that felt kinda nice. Relaxing. Then he looked up at the New York night sky.

"Mac!" he heard Stella and saw her worried face looming over him. "Are you ok?"

"You can really see the stars from here," he said absent-minededly as if he hadn't heard her.

She looked at him in amazement and laughed. "Nah, I think you just bumped your head hard and…" she didn't manage to finish as his hand shot out, grabbed her wrist and pulled her down. She landed on the ice beside him with a small yelp of surprise.

"Ouch!" she hit him on the arm. "That hurt!"

"Look for yourself," he said with a smirk. She shot him an annoyed look but then did look up. The sight _was_ fantastic. The stars were twinkling in the night sky like little light-bulbs that someone kept turning on and off. The sky was rimmed by sky scrapers looming darkly around and giving the scenery an eerie air of seclusion even though they were in the heart of the city.

"It's beautiful," she whispered letting herself fall under the spell of the serene ambience around.

"Not as beautiful as you," Mac found himself saying on impulse before he could think. He looked at her sheepishly, unsure of her reaction.

There was a look of surprise on her face, which was quickly replaced with a cheeky grin.

"Wow, you must have bumped that head really hard, mister," she said and Mac was grateful she turned his lame attempt at a compliment into a joke.

He didn't know that it wasn't lame for her at all. To the contrary – she had been waiting for a sign from him that her attraction to him wasn't one-sided all evening; his sideways glances and tender smiles simply weren't enough. She was starting to doubt if this moment would ever come. Now that it had, she wasn't going to let him off the hook this easy.

She lifted herself on her elbow and her face hovered inches above his. Her eyes were darker than usual, a rich tint of emerald to her usually light green irises. As she splashed that deep green gaze over his face and finally concentrated on his eyes, he felt himself drowning in its intensity, feelings and emotions long buried and forgotten stirring within and bewildering him. What was supposed to be a casual, innocent evening out with his best friend was suddenly so much more.

Stella searched his face trying to find what she had been longing to find there for God knows how long – a confirmation of her own feelings. His face was so familiar, so well known, she could trace every crease and wrinkle with her fingers in her sleep. Yet now it held an expression she hadn't seen in a long time. Last time she had was when Claire was still alive. Now that it was directed at her and her alone, she felt a wave of emotion take hold of her and send shivers down her spine.

Mac heard his own pulse drumming in his ears as he curled his arms around her and brought her closer. Slowly and hesitantly, as if afraid she might back away any second, he brought his face to hers and planted a tender, tentative kiss on her lips. Then he pulled back, not sure of her reaction still.

Her face lingered above his a while longer, her eyes still gazing searchingly into his for the answer she wanted to see in them and thought she did. She slowly moved her hand over his forehead, removing a stray strand of hair.

"Stell…" he began.

Then some skater glided dangerously close by and it made them automatically jerk away from each other.

"I…uh…I think we should get up," Mac mumbled, the mood of the moment lost. "Or we'll get decapitated."

Stella took in his charmingly boyish embarrassment with a crooked smile. Sometimes it was really hard to believe that he was a mature man who had dated grown-up women before and had indeed been married. He was a skilled scientist and a brilliant detective who could stand his ground against the meanest criminals in New York, but when it came to personal, he reminded her more of a shy pubescent teenager than the formidable and headstrong man she knew him to be.

Deciding it was not the time to call him up on this, she rolled off of him and stood up. Seeing him scramble for balance, she gave him a hand. As he was finally on his feet standing before her and shaking off ice and snow from his jacket and jeans, she said in a definitive tone as she eyed him critically: "I think that's enough skating for you or you'll turn into a Snow-Mac."

"You look like you could use some warming up yourself," he said in an innocent tone that made her look up at him in wonder asking herself once again if she had heard him right. She arched an eyebrow, a teasing remark ready on her lips when he quickly added. "There's a small bar not far away. How about a mulled wine or a ginger ale?"

"I'd like that," she smiled deciding to let him off the hook and keep her teasing to herself as he was blushing already anyway. "Lead the way."

**XxXxXxX**

They settled themselves on the stools at a cozy bar full of people warming themselves up after an evening out in the park and Mac brought them their steaming drinks. He had insisted that it was his turn to buy and she wasn't even allowed to argue.

"Thanks, Mac," she said taking her mug with mulled wine from his hands.

"I should thank you, Stella. This was an amazing evening. I really had fun."

"You sound surprised."

"Sorry. I mean, I always have fun around you," he explained hastily. "It's just that this was…something completely new and unexpected."

His admission that he always had fun with her didn't go unnoticed and she squeezed his hand.

"New is good, Mac."

He sighed. "So they say."

"So _I_ say, Mac. Especially if it's one stubborn NYPD detective we're talking about," she added pointedly. "There's food for thought for you until I get back," she lifted herself from her stool and headed for the ladies' room.

He couldn't help but watch her shapely silhouette as she navigated through the throng of people. He instantly recalled that silhouette being so pleasantly pressed up against him on the rink. He remembered the electric sparks that went through his body and admitted to himself he wouldn't mind having her that close to him more often. _All the time_, his treacherous mind added, _preferably in less clothing_.

He felt a blush creeping up his face so with a vehement shake of his head he closed that line of thought off and his mind drifted off to other things that were hidden in the back of his mind. The events of the last couple of months had been really hard on him. The amount of personal load they had brought along was stupefying and really difficult to handle, even for him. Having to relieve his father's death in the wake of the Gravedigger case and dealing with Claire's death once again as he couldn't help but compare himself with Hollis Eckhart was really hard. Harder than he would have let anyone know, including himself.

As always, though, Stella picked up on what was going on in his head with her sixth sense or Spidey sense or whatever it was that allowed her to read even his deepest thoughts and emotions. And she once again succeeded in prying him out of his reclusive shell. And in what way! She took him skating! He had to smile at the very thought – him skating? Even this morning, it would have seemed ridiculous. He didn't do skating just as he didn't do caroling or cooking. These things belonged with a satisfied middle-aged father of a happy family, something he feared he would never become. With Stella, however, he was beginning to believe anything was possible. Hell, she _had_ made him skate! Of all the things he loved about Stella, it was her ability to see the colours in life and take from it as much as she could. She tried to live life to the fullest and he admitted it was rubbing off of him. Not unpleasantly so.

She had gone through so much trouble only to coax him out of the lab and make him have a fun time in a social surrounding and he couldn't be more grateful to her. But it wasn't only gratefulness that he was feeling. Her looks, her touch, her whole body language made him believe that in fact they could become something more than just friends.

That thought would have seemed out of place for him only a few months ago but ever since he came to Greece after her and was able to open himself up to her a little, he found there was no going back. With each day he felt stronger that it wasn't merely platonic friendship that he wanted. And he got the impression Stella was feeling that, too. She hadn't pulled away. On the contrary, she reciprocated his kiss, the memory of which was driving him insane because it only left him wanting more.

But did they dare to cross the line between friendship and a romantic relationship? Would it be wise to risk their priceless bond for something as fickle as love? His analytic mind kept replaying these questions in his tormented mind and raising ever new waves of doubt and hesitation, even though his heart was giving him a clear answer.

"Wondering how to give everyone world peace?" her voice near his ear made him shake out of his reverie.

"Well, it is this special time of the year," he was quick to counter and she smiled. "Why?"

"You just had that look on your face," she said simply as she settled into her chair again.

"What look would that be?" he arched his eyebrows at her, a smile playing on his lips.

"Like there was something really important on your mind. You always have that look when you're about to solve a case," she said matter-of-factly and took a swig of her wine like it was the most normal thing in the world that she should know his every look and his thoughts behind it. He shook his head at that realization. She _was_ amazing.

"So what was it? Don't tell me you _are_ solving a case on our date!" she exclaimed.

"Date?" he asked in amazement. Stella kept surprising him all evening and he enjoyed every surprise more than the last.

"Only if you want it to be," she said in a somewhat subdued voice realizing her words might have been too forward for him. Did she go too far? Was it too fast for him? Did she just cross a line she was not supposed to? Did he even want this? All these questions came crowding into her head as she looked at him.

She knew she wanted this, with all her heart. And Mac had been so relaxed and even flirty earlier that it left her thinking that he could actually want this also – to make something more of their over decade-long friendship.

"Do you?" he said in half-whisper, his eyes hooked on her face, that long-gone glint that made her sure he wanted this as well, back.

"Yes," she reciprocated his gaze and he felt himself drowning in the intensity her eyes offered. "Very much."

"I want this, too, Stella," he said earnestly as if still unsure of her reaction but he was put at ease when he saw that megawatt smile of hers on her face.

He put a hand to her smooth cheek and placed a kiss on the delicate skin below her ear. "I want you," he whispered in a husky tone before he moved back. Stella felt goose bumps all over her body at his touch and voice. As he looked back at her with those intense blue eyes, his desire for her shining through, she wanted nothing more than to throw him on the ground and take advantage of him here and now.

"Do you still have that scarf?" she asked.

"Scarf?" he asked incredulously, completely thrown off the track by her change of subject. "Um…yeah, sure," he finally managed, surprise showing through every syllable.

Seeing the obvious disappointment on his boyish face, she wanted to burst out with laughter. However, she managed to keep a straight face and took the scarf he had put into his jacket pocket from him.

"Turn around, Mac," she ordered with a set expression.

"Stella?" he furrowed his eyebrows in sheer bewilderment.

She put her hands on her hips. "Mac, you trust me, right?"

"I do but…"

"Then zip it and do as I say," she interrupted.

"I don't have any say in this, do I?"

"No, you don't," she stated happily and proceeded to put the scarf over his eyes. When her impromptu blindfold was securely tied at the back of his head, she helped him don his jacket and put her own on, too. Then she took his hands and led him out of the bar.

"Stella, where are you taking me?" he asked as the cold winter air hit him.

"I'm going to lead you off to a dark alley, kill you and make it to look like a suicide," she said snarkily.

Mac huffed but allowed himself to be led further. He heard the sound of human chatter as they passed the skating rink and then the sound of car traffic started to become louder and louder. The only thing keeping him from taking the scarf from his face right there and then were Stella's reassuring hands firmly holding his own. Then they stopped and he heard her hail a cab. She pushed him inside putting a protective hand over his head so that he wouldn't bump it on his way in. Then she got in herself.

"Where to?" the cabbie asked. Mac didn't even want to imagine the man's expression as he took in the sight of him blindfolded on the back seat. Thankfully, he didn't comment. Mac figured he must have seen much stranger things in his career as a cab driver. This was New York, after all.

"One sec," Stella said and fumbled for her purse. He heard a rush of movement as she then handed something to the man and the cab started moving. He figured she had written the address down to further keep him in the dark, both literally and metaphorically. What was she up to? Feeling helpless like this made him…what? Confused? Irritated? Actually, he realized with amazement, it felt kinda good and exciting.

He jerked when he suddenly felt her face close to his. "Relax, Mac," she whispered into his ear. "You're gonna like this," she delicately kissed him just below the ear.

He felt heat rise inside him in response to her words and closeness. Oh, this was not good. Didn't she know what effect she had on him?

"Where are we going, Stella?" he asked weakly.

"You'll see soon enough. Now sit back and enjoy the ride," she said and squeezed his hand.

**XxXxXxX**

When the cab stopped after about a twenty minute's ride, Stella led him out and took his hands again. They entered a building and climbed a few flights of stairs. He counted them and by the time they stopped, he had an inkling where they were. He smiled hearing Stella open a door and leading him in.

"Stella, you could have just told me…," he started but was silenced by her lips crushing his with passion making his desire for her grow with every second. She pushed him back until his back was against the door. He pulled her close and deepened the kiss eliciting delicate moans from her.

He heard her purse and keys land on the floor as her hands began snaking up his chest working to remove his coat, which was soon on the ground along with hers. Then she started placing slow and deliberate kisses on his neck, moving upwards to his ear. When she got there, she began delicately nibbling on his ear and was rewarded with a soft moan that escaped his lips. His hands automatically went for the scarf still covering his eyes but she was quick to hold them in place.

"No peeking," she said playfully. "Or do I have to tie your hands, too?"

"Why do I get the feeling you'd like that?" he smirked.

"I would but let's save that for some other time," she said teasingly and he felt even further warmth growing within – she was already planning for a next time. This seemed almost too great to be true. He was quickly brought back to reality when he felt her taking his hands in hers once again.

"Right now…" she let her voice drop seductively and led him further into the apartment. He let himself be led, though his hands were itching to pull her back into his embrace.

She sat him down and tried to move away but he pulled her into his lap placing kisses on all the exposed flesh he could land his lips on. He was rewarded with her giggles as she tried to pull away again, this time successfully.

"Stell…you can't just leave me here not being able to see you…"

"Mac, consider this as exercise in self-control," she said and he pouted but remained where he was, the blindfold still on. Somehow, he felt his patience would be rewarded.

Finally he felt her hands slide down the sides of his face and suddenly the scarf was off and the sight that was revealed to his unexpecting eyes left him speechless.

Stella stood a step away with nothing on but black satin lingerie on her luscious body. His eyes wandered up and down her goddess-like frame.

"You are perfect," he said with wonder.

As if transfixed, he reached out his hands gently grasping her waist and bringing her closer so that she came to stand between his legs.

"And you are overdressed," she said starting to undo his shirt buttons as his hands slowly wandered down her sides over her hips and thighs eliciting shivers of excitement from her body.

"You are not making this easier," she scolded jokingly not being able to free him of his shirt due to her shivering fingers. She fumbled with his buttons and Mac was amazed to notice she seemed as nervous as he was. It made his desire for her grow even more.

"Here," he said taking her fingers off his chest and simply taking the shirt together with the undershirt he had underneath off over his head with one swift movement. Maybe a bit too swift as he heard one or two buttons snap.

She let out a small laugh seeing his eagerness and took a moment to feast her eyes on his muscled bare chest. If she had known what he had been hiding under those dress shirts all those years, she would have made her move much earlier. She had seen him without his shirt once but back then they had a terrorist on their hands and he was injured and covered in blood, sweat and dirt. Right now he was hers. And she was going to make the most of every second.

With that in mind, she pushed him down into a lying position and eased herself on top of him showering his face and chest with kisses. Her touch lingered on the scar over his chest and she frowned realizing how much it must have hurt. But her thoughts were directed towards a more pressing subject as he gently led her mouth back to his and their bodies once again became intertwined in a passionate embrace.

**XxXxXxX**

The next morning Stella woke up to Mac's heartbeat. She was comfortably sprawled on his chest, her leg hooked over his thigh. She sighed contentedly and had to smile with pure happiness remembering all the events of the last night.

"Morning," she heard him say and lifted her gaze to meet his eyes, which were gazing at her lovingly.

"Morning," she replied and planted a kiss on his lips. "Did you sleep?"

"I think you know the answer to that," he smirked and she groaned.

"I guess I will have to tire you out more in the future."

"I like the sound of that," he smiled and brushed a stray curl from her forehead. Then his face took on a ruminative expression.

"What is it, Mac?" she was quick to pick up on it.

"It's just that…the future…a future with you. It sounds pretty great," he looked down at her again and placed a kiss on her temple. "I'd really like that, Stella."

"That's good because I'm not going anywhere any time soon."

"How about going to the shower with me?"

"Why do I get the feeling there wouldn't be much showering done?"

"Is that a problem?" he asked innocently.

She flashed him a cheeky grin and got up, making her way to the shower. He drank in her every movement, relishing in the perfectness of her body and the seductive sway of her hips until she disappeared in the bathroom. He lingered a while, marveling over how much his life had changed in the course of a few days. This amazing woman had managed to turn him form a lonely man stuck behind a wall of insecurity and fear into a hopeful guy, who was head over heels in love with her and was looking into the future with happy anticipation for the first time in many years.

"Mac, you comin'?" came her voice from the shower bringing him back to reality.

Now future couldn't come fast enough. For he knew it would be a future filled with Stella.

**THE END**

* * *

**A/N**: That's it! Thanks for reading – I hope you liked it! Please let me know in a review:-)


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